


A Dead False God

by ReaderJane



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-27
Updated: 2005-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderJane/pseuds/ReaderJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teal'c looks back on his life with Apophis</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dead False God

From boyhood my ambition drove  
me on to win the golden brand,  
badge of the first, best slave. I strove  
to satisfy my god's demands.

His judgements harsh, his will was cold,  
his anger hotter than the suns.  
He knew the mind of friend and foe,  
showed power to all, mercy to none.

The armies of his rivals I  
defeated in his glorious name.  
The children of his victims I  
betrayed and orphaned to my shame.

I thought it should not be so hard  
to steel myself to do his will.  
Was I my master's strong right arm  
or just a monster's monstrous tool?

My brother soldier failed his task  
nor perished chasing victory.  
Sentenced to death, he stood aghast  
when I dismissed him live and free.

Who taught me that a god is just?  
Only my heart. Only my mind.  
I thought to be accused. He must  
have known my sin. He gave no sign.

It seemed a lifetime without end  
I killed and bowed and held my tongue,  
judging which days his will would bend,  
which days that fight could not be won.

A god may die and be reborn,  
though only with his servants' help.  
But for no servant would this god  
lay down his life and take it up.

Eager to serve, I would have set  
my feet on any path he trod.  
My heart was lamed. Impossible  
to follow where he would not lead.

When godless men challenged his might  
to steal away his lawful prey  
I slaughtered those I taught to fight,  
and traitor turned, and ran away.

I live to free my people from  
the jailers coiled within their flesh,  
lead them through fire and flood to claim  
the liberty I now possess

that all I love may be like me.  
Like me they will confront their fall  
from grace, and learn to choose between  
a dead, false god and none at all.

Freedom's a cold and lonely friend.  
I make it everything to me:  
my prize, but never, in the end  
the god I wanted him to be.


End file.
